


All the World's a Stage

by neko_fish



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neko_fish/pseuds/neko_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing the part of Romeo in a little Georgian playhouse, Jim never expected to his toughest critic to be the grumpy caretaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the World's a Stage

Standing on top of the stage and staring out into the crowd, he felt distant and alone despite being surrounded by people from all sides. As much as Jim loved the feeling of all eyes on him, the performance wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought it’d be. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he took a final bow and watched as the curtains fell.  
   
It was only the opening night too—shit.  
   
The night air was hot and muggy in Savannah, Georgia, when he made his way back to the theatre after having gone out for a drink with the cast and crew. He wasn’t even sure how he ended up playing Romeo at this little playhouse seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Opening the backdoor to the building, he slipped in and made his way to the dressing room where he’d left his keys.  
   
Much to his surprise, the lights in the room where the pros were held were on. Curious, he poked his head through the doorway only to find a man in a worn out jacket fixing up the prop skeleton he’d accidentally knocked over right before the play started. The man seemed to be enjoying himself, naming the bones as he put them back in place and the muscle and cartilage that held the bones together.  
   
He should’ve just left without a sound—should’ve slipped out and left the man to whatever he was doing—but for some reason, he felt the need to be acknowledged. Clearing his throat, he watched with some satisfaction as the man turned around with a start. He smiled and asked, “Hey there, Bones, what’re ya doin’ there?”  
   
The man arched an eyebrow and stared at him for a moment. Then, instead of answering his question, he replied in an unimpressed tone, “Oh, it’s flat Romeo.”  
   
Caught off guard, Jim blinked. “ _Excuse_  me?”  
   
Shrugging and turning back to the task at hand, the man replied, “You played Romeo, right? You didn’t seem to enjoy your role very much. And it’s only opening night. I hate to break it to you, but you’re in for a long production, kid.”  
   
“You were watching?” he asked.  
   
“I watched bits here and there, but then I got bored after awhile and went back to work,” the man replied.  
   
He furrowed his brows. “You got  _bored_? First you call me flat and now you’re calling me boring? I don’t even know you and you’re insulting me—who are you anyways, oh great Shakespearean expert, sir?”  
   
The man snorted. “I’m the caretaker here, not some Shakespeare lover, kid. And I’m not trying to insult you, I’m just stating an observation. Don’t be so touchy.”  
   
Great, the  _janitor_  was making fun of his performance. He didn’t spend weeks and months rehearsing for this. “I’m not being touchy. How could you tell I wasn’t in character anyways?”  
   
Setting the repaired skeleton against the wall and grabbing the broom next to it, the man answered, “It’s not that hard. I’ve watched a lot of plays in my lifetime, so I can tell when someone’s into it. I mean, I can see why they picked you to be Romeo, but it’s too bad you’ve got the enthusiasm of a rock. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”  
   
Too stunned to come up with a proper reply, he stepped aside and let the man through and watched him disappear down the unlit hallway.  
   
\--  
   
The next night, Jim stayed behind after the others had left to see if the man would show up again. Sitting cross-legged on stage in front of the curtains, he lit up when he saw the man step in, sweeping between the rows. He called out, “Hey there, Bones. Did I do better tonight?”  
   
The man looked up and blinked, confused by his presence. “You tried a little harder tonight, I’ll give you that. But it’s still lacking, Romeo.”  
   
Jim pursed his lips and responded, “Well, in my defense, the newspaper thought I was excellent and captured the very  _essence_  of Romeo, apparently. Thou hast been possessed by a green eyed monster, methinks.”  
   
“Yeah, well, that’s just bullshit,  _methinks_. Those people wouldn’t know a damn cow from a horse,” the man retorted with a scoff. “You weren’t even into it, were you? There’s more to being on stage than just memorizing a script. If you can’t even play Romeo right, then you’ve got a mighty tough career ahead of you.”  
   
He huffed and crossed his arms, not wanting to give an honest answer to the question. “Alright then, what would  _you_ recommend I do then, O wise one?”  
   
“How about try putting yourself in Romeo’s shoes for a start?” the man suggested.  
   
“I put myself in his tights— _that’s_  got to count for something,” he replied. “The guy was a horndog. First, it was ‘O Rosaline, O Rosaline, thy bosom art so large and thou are so hot!’ Then it was all ‘O Juliet, O Juliet, let me bang thee!’ He saw a hot chick and wanted to get into her pants. That’s Romeo’s character.”  
   
“Ah, so you were just playing yourself then?”  
   
Jim had to smile in spite of himself. “Let’s try to keep that on the down low.”  
   
Chuckling and shaking his head, the man said, “He could’ve just been trying to get into her pants—or maybe it was love at first sight. I know that it must be a hard concept for you to grasp, but it does happen to people every now and then. Maybe you should try playing Romeo from that angle next time. You’re supposed to convince the audience you’re in love, not in heat.”  
   
He considered it for a moment. “I guess I could try that. Will you be watching tomorrow night?”  
   
“Maybe. Now skedaddle and let me finish up so I can go home.”  
   
That night, he tried to imagine what ‘love at first sight’ would feel like, but all he could picture in his head was the cantankerous caretaker whose name he didn’t even know.  
   
\--  
   
He had to admit that the play was more enjoyable when he actually gave it his all and lost himself in the play. The emotions felt genuine for once, and judging from the crowd’s reaction, they felt it too. Even more rewarding, however, was the thought of hanging around afterwards to talk to his source of inspiration and favourite critic. “Hey there, Bones. How was I tonight?”  
   
Not surprised in the least by his presence this time, the man shrugged. “You’re getting there, Romeo.”  
   
It was just the tiniest of encouragements, but it meant more to him than the standing ovation he’d received.  
   
“We never got around to properly introducing ourselves, did we? I’m Jim Kirk.”  
   
“McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” was the grumbled reply.  
   
“Leonard McCoy?” He wrinkled his nose for effect. “No wonder you act like such an old man. I think I’ll stick with Bones.”  
   
Scowling, Leonard regarded him with narrowed eyes for a moment before returning to his work. “Do whatever you want, you damn infant.”  
   
Jim grinned. “Whatever I want? I think I’ll stay and chat for a bit then.”  
   
“Oh dear lord, why would you want to do that?”  
   
“Don’t give me that, Bones. You know you enjoy my company,” Jim teased.  
   
Leonard rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I enjoy your company about as much as I would a stomach ulcer.”  
   
He laughed. “I have reason to believe that I’m a little more pleasant than a stomach ulcer. For one thing, I won’t make you vomit blood.”  
   
“Stick around for another hour and we’ll see about that,” Leonard growled.  
   
“So why are you such a theatre and drama aficionado anyways? I mean, there are movie theatres around here and bars. And you don’t look that much older than me. Don’t tell me you were actually born at the ripe old age of fifty.”  
   
“I grew up watching plays. My old man was the owner of this playhouse at one point.”  
   
He blinked in surprise. “Really? What happened?”  
   
“He got real sick and we had to sell this place to make ends meet’s what happened. I was in college at the time, had to drop all my classes to help out. He passed away a couple years ago,” Leonard replied with a shrug. “These things happen.”  
   
Jim worried his lower lip. “Shit, that’s really rough. Sorry to hear that. What were you in college for?”  
   
The man snorted in amusement. “You make it sound like I was in prison doing time. I was in pre-med.”  
   
“Pre-med? Like, to be a doctor? Wow, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I would’ve thought you’d want to be involved in the arts and theatre business having grown up around it and all.”  
   
“And become a fickle, overly-sensitive actor like you?” Leonard shot him a teasing look. “No thanks.”  
   
He chuckled. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. But never mind that, why don’t you go back to college? Atrocious bedside manner aside, judging by the way you put that skeleton back together the other day, I think being a doctor would suit you rather well.”  
   
Leonard arched a brow. “Thanks, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not exactly the cheapest thing in the world. I’m saving up, but it’s slow going. What about you, Romeo? Why did you decide to bless the stage with your presence?”  
   
“Me? See, my parents….”  
   
And they talked well into the night.  
   
\--  
   
Jim was curled up with his knees to his chest when Leonard showed up. Glad that his miserable day was finally over, he called out without his usual enthusiasm, “Hey there, Bones. Was I okay tonight?”  
   
There was a hint of worry behind those hazel eyes though his voice didn’t give anything away. “What happened, Romeo? You seemed down tonight.”  
   
It was both comforting and unnerving how well the man could read him. “You noticed?”  
   
Arching a brow, Leonard asked, “Was I not supposed to?”  
   
“No, it just surprised me’s all.” He let out a heavy sigh and told the man, “I bombed my audition this morning. It was just—a total disaster. I can’t even begin to  _describe_  how bad it went.”  
   
“Oh” was all Leonard offered in response.  
   
Jim jutted his lower lip out into a pout. “‘Oh?’ That’s it? I realize that you’re not big on comforting people, Bones, but couldn’t you have at least put a little more effort into it? Don’t you feel bad for me  _at all_?”  
   
Shrugging, Leonard replied, “Not really. It won’t be the end of you. It’s not like you’re not going to quit because of this, are you?”  
   
He paused and thought about it, then he shook his head. “No. Of course not. That’d be stupid.”  
   
Leonard looked over at him and arched an eyebrow. “Then what’s there to worry about? It’s just one little audition out of hundreds. You’re bound to get something good as long as you keep trying. Stop being so melodramatic, Jim. It probably wasn’t a role you really wanted anyway.”  
   
Jim could’ve kissed him right then and there.  
   
\--  
   
Despite how much he enjoyed it, their correspondence didn’t last very long. Jim tried his best to stay behind every night to talk to Leonard, but towards the end of the production it just wasn’t possible. With his continual improvement and recognition, he simply didn’t have time for idle chitchat anymore—not when there were people to meet and auditions to attend. And when he was offered the lead role on stage in New York, he simply couldn’t turn it down.  
   
On the night of his last production, he returned to the playhouse one final time after the after-party in hopes of finding the caretaker one last time. His heart fluttered in relief when he caught Leonard near the light switches, ready to call it a night. Jogging over to the man, he asked, “Hey there, Bones. So how did I do?”  
   
Leonard offered him a small, teasing smile. “Not bad, Romeo. I was almost convinced you were actually in love.”  
   
Jim clutched at his chest in an exaggerated manner. “You’re breaking my heart here, Bones. Only almost?”  
   
The man rolled his eyes. “You’ll get there someday.”  
   
There was a moment of silence between them.  
   
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jim said, “You know, it feels like I haven’t talked to you in awhile.”  
   
“We’ve both been busy, I suppose,” Leonard answered with a shrug.  
   
He chuckled at the understatement. “Busy is one way to put it. I’ll be flying to New York tomorrow for another production.”  
   
“Yeah, I heard. Congrats. So why are you still here? Did you forget something?”  
   
“Actually, I was hoping to see you one more time before I leave.” Rubbing the back of his neck hesitantly, Jim asked, “Do you wanna come over to my place for a drink?”  
   
Leonard regarded him for a moment before nodding and turning the lights off. “Sure, kid. Why the hell not?”  
   
\--  
   
Watching Leonard pull his clothes back on from the bed of his unlit hotel room, Jim wondered if what he was feeling was love. He told the man, “You should totally come with me to New York, Bones.”  
   
Leonard paused and stared at him in disbelief before shaking his head. “That’s a nice thought, Jim, but no thanks.”  
   
“Why not?” he asked, curious. “I think we'd be good together. We could live in the big city, and if all goes well, I could even help fund your schooling. You can just pay me back when you become a world renowned doctor.”  
   
“I hate to break it to you, kid, but that’s not how life works. You barely know me,” the man told him.  
   
“I think I know you well enough,” he countered and got out of bed. “We’re already in the middle of the play, Bones, and the world’s our stage. Act one was the meeting and love at first sight, act two was the getting to know each other, act three was the amazing sex—”  
   
Leonard scoffed and waved him off. “You forgot to kill my cousin. You can’t very well expect me to go anywhere with you if you couldn’t even get that part right.”  
   
He laughed and wrapped his arms around the man, preventing him from putting his shirt back on. “Damn. I knew I was forgetting something.”  
   
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, Leonard sighed and let his arms fall to his side. “We’re not living out a play, Jim. And even if we were, I have no intention of re-enacting a damn tragedy. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to go on to act four and five on your own, Romeo.”  
   
“On my own? That’d be tragic but not very romantic, Bones. ‘ _Romeo going Solo’_  would never sell.”  
   
“You’re just getting caught up in the moment right now. You don’t actually want to be stuck in a relationship, kid,” Leonard grumbled. “Least of all with someone like me.”  
   
Jim arched a brow. “And how can you be so sure about that?”  
   
“Look, you’re going to go to New York, and you’re going to do great. You’re going to earn lots of money, fame, and recognition. You’ll have people crawling for miles just to see you. And if I know you half as well as I think I do, you’ll drink it all up and it’s all going to get to your head.”  
   
“It’s nice to see that you have so much faith in me,” he muttered, pressing kisses against Leonard’s neck.  
   
In a softer voice, Leonard continued, “The whole world’s going to fall head over heels for you, Jim. And if I go with you, you’ll resent being tied down and I’ll resent being in debt to you. We’ll both just end up ashamed and hateful of one another. It’d never work out between us—not at this time.”  
   
“What about your dream to become a doctor? I could help you,” he argued.  
   
“I’ll become a doctor my own way,” Leonard retorted.  
   
He frowned. “What about me?”  
   
Arching a brow, Leonard asked, “What  _about_  you?”  
   
“What’ll I do without my favourite critic?”  
   
“You’ll be fine, Jim. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of others who’ll be more than willing to criticize you. Just try to make at least a few decent friends who’ll look out for you while you’re over there.”  
   
Seeing that there was no changing the man’s mind, he sighed. “Stubborn bastard. There’s just no convincing you, is there? I’m going to miss you, Bones.”  
   
Leonard snorted. “Don’t be stupid. You’re still only at the starting point of your career. You’ll forget about me in a week or two.”  
   
Jim shook his head and kissed the man. “No, I won’t. I’ll never forget you.”  
   
The two broke their kiss reluctantly after a minute. Leonard let out a soft sigh. “I guess we’ll see about that.”  
   
“Don’t leave yet,” he murmured, tightening his arms. “Stay the night, Bones. Check-out isn’t ‘til eleven and my flight doesn’t leave ‘til the afternoon.”  
   
“Dammit, Jim—”  
   
“Stay? Please? If you’re not going to drink poison and fake your own death for me, at least give me the rest of tonight to remember you by.”  
   
There was a pause then a sigh. “…you’re unbelievable.”  
   
\--  
   
When he awoke, the sun was up and Leonard was already dressed and ready to leave.  
   
“Hey there, Bones. So that’s it for act three then?” Jim asked in a quiet voice.  
   
“That’s it for act three, Romeo,” the man repeated in affirmation.  
   
“I’ll give you a shout out when I’m rich and famous. It might take a little while, but I’ll get there,” he promised. “And you  _have_  to come when you hear it, okay? Because act four in our play will end with me finally convincing you that this is the real deal. Then together, we’ll start act five, and I swear on my plane ticket to New York it won’t turn into a Shakespearean tragedy.”  
   
Chuckling, Leonard walked over and gave him one last gentle kiss. “I’ll look forward to it if it ever comes then, you melodramatic infant. Who knows? With any luck, maybe I’ll be a doctor by then.”  
   
“You know I’d take you either way,” Jim told him earnestly, returning the kiss. “I guess the next time we’ll meet will be at the end of act four.”  
   
“Until the end of act four then,” Leonard murmured, making his way to the door. “See you on the silver screen, Romeo.”  
   
\--  
   
His time in New York went by in a blur. The flashing signs, the crowds, the spotlight, the cheering fans, everything was just dizzying. Young and inexperienced, he got swept away by his newfound fame. He chased away his loneliness and insecurity with parties, alcohol, and strangers. Before he knew it, years had gone by, plays performed, movies were made, awards won, and relationships ended.  
   
Waking up one morning with a nasty hangover and no recollection of the night before, he sat up with a groan and looked around his uptown suite. There was a beautiful woman in his bed and bottles of alcohol strewn about. He staggered into the bathroom and stared at the mirror, not recognizing the man looking back at him.  
   
What would Leonard say if he saw him now?—probably ‘I told you so.’  
   
The sudden thought made him pause and blink.  
   
Leonard…it was a name he hadn’t thought of for years now. Guilt gnawed away at him. He could still picture the man perfectly in his head with his constant scowls and the contradictory softness in his eyes and wondered how he could’ve ever forgotten about his first and favourite source of inspiration.  
   
“Jim? Come back to bed, baby,” the woman called out from the bedroom.  
   
God, he didn’t even know her name.  
   
Splashing water onto his face, he looked into the mirror once more and muttered, “No more. It’s time to end act four.”  
   
\--  
   
“I think I might’ve gone a little overboard,” he told his friends over lunch. Still hungover and feeling immensely guilty, he kept himself busy by stirring away at his drink while avoiding all eye contact.  
   
Spock arched a brow. “A  _little_  overboard? That is a rather large understatement you are making, Jim. We have been unable to contact you in over a week.”  
   
Nyota rolled her eyes. “You were probably drunk the entire time, weren’t you?”  
   
“Maybe? I can’t actually remember,” Jim confessed. “I’ll clean up my act. Promise. I guess I got caught up in all the publicity and everything just went to my head.”  
   
“You  _guess_?” Spock repeated.  
   
He frowned. “Really, Spock? I’m already hurting. Do you really need to rub salt on my wounds like that? Okay, fine. I was a complete asshole and I’m sorry. Grovel. Grovel. Repent. Repent. There, all better?”  
   
“Really, Jim? All these years of acting and that’s all you got? I’ve never seen a less convincing apology,” Nyota told him with a disapproving expression on her face.  
   
“I’m truly sincerely sorry, guys. I never meant for it to end up like this.” He looked over at the two. “How do you guys keep it all from getting to your heads? I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you on the headlines of some tabloid magazine.”  
   
She looked over at Spock and laced their fingers together. “We keep each other anchored, I guess. Spock’s always there at the end of the day and it’s like a reminder for me to step out of whatever role I’m playing and to go back to being myself. What need do I have for alcohol and one-night stands when I’ve got Spock? He gives me warmth, companionship, security, conversation,  _and_  he cooks.”  
   
“And in return, he gets—” the two of them cut him off with withering glares and he quickly changed the direction of his sentence, “—exactly the same in return.” Then, after considering her words, he conceded, “It actually sounds pretty nice. He’s a lucky guy.”  
   
Nyota shifted in her seat and crossed her legs, her eyes studying him with curiosity. A moment of scrutiny later, she appeared surprised by what she found. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day, but it looks to me like you’re actually ready to stop with the one-night stands and start a real relationship.”  
   
“A real relationship?” he asked, furrowing his brows.  
   
She chuckled. “Of course you don’t know what that means. It’s a relationship where you wake up next to the same person in the morning and you actually have to know their name. You’re like a dog in heat most of the time—which is probably why you never get the lead in romantic movies. Only god knows what kind of person would be able to keep you anchored down though.”  
   
“An anchor, hmm?”  
   
His thoughts turned to hazel eyes, sharp words and gentle kisses.  
   
“Fascinating. It would appear that you just thought of someone,” Spock noted.  
   
Jim jerked back in his seat with a start. “I did not! Get out of my head, Spock! You may be my best friend, but you’re not allowed to read my mind like that! This is an invasion of my privacy!”  
   
Spock arched a brow. “I was merely stating an observation, Jim. So what do you plan to do now?”  
   
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Well, first of all, I need to get this chick out of my apartment, then I think I might step back into theatre for a little bit. I kinda miss the stage.”  
   
\--  
   
His agent furrowed his brows when the idea was brought up. “Theatre? That’s kind of sudden. What’s with the sudden change of heart, Jim?”  
   
Jim rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s nothing serious, Chris. I just think I need a bit of a break from doing movies’ all. And with everything that’s gone on lately, I figured it’d be good for me to go back to where I began just to collect my thoughts and whatnot. Is it a bad idea?”  
   
Christopher studied him for a moment and shook his head. He gave him an approving pat on the back and said, “No. I think a breath of fresh air might do you some good too. So back to the stage, hmm? I’ll look into it and see what’s out there right now. It’s good to see you looking more like yourself, Jim. Welcome back.”  
   
He smiled. “It’s good to be back.”  
   
\--  
   
“So, Jim, your character—the hero’s pretty much ready to cross oceans and move mountains because of this girl he just met,” the director tells him fervently on the first day of rehearsal.  
   
“It was love at first sight,” he murmured, flipping through the script.  
   
“Exactly! And he’s completely convinced that they’re meant to be together. He loses his way at one point, tempted by witches and sirens, but then he remembers her and gets back on track. That love at first sight and that desperate hope to see her again are the forces that drive him through the entire play. You think you can put yourself in his shoes?”  
   
Jim thought of those brief meetings he used to look so forward to, sitting on the stage after the show and waiting for the door to open, revealing that cantankerous caretaker who should’ve been a doctor.  
   
He nodded at the director. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can.”  
   
\--  
   
His heart was pounding when he sealed the envelope and stuck the stamps on. Inside were a plane ticket and a ticket to his opening night. On the envelope, he addressed it to ‘Leonard McCoy’ and the Georgian playhouse he worked at once upon a time.  
   
Two weeks later, he tried to tell himself that the ache in his chest wasn’t from heartbreak when the envelope returned unopened and with ‘Leonard doesn’t work here anymore—sorry’ written on the back. On the one hand, he was glad and hoped Leonard was out in the world, pursuing his dreams, but on the other, he felt lost and unsure of what to do next.  
   
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it.  
   
\--  
   
Spock loomed over him with crossed arms and an arched eyebrow. “Your play is premiering in a week. Would you care to explain to me why you are sulking, Jim?”  
   
Covering his face with his arm, he waved his friend off. “I’m not sulking, Spock. I’m just sad and depressed. Go away and leave me alone.”  
   
“Jim, as much as I would like to heed your suggestion, you are in no position to tell me to go away when you are lying on  _our_  couch with your shoes on  _our_  cushions. And I have no intention of trying to interpret your behaviour. I have found that it is generally inefficient and unproductive and I do not have time for that right now.”  
   
“Inefficient and unproductive? Some friend  _you_  are.” He heaved a deep sigh. “It was supposed to be a shout out, Spock. There was someone I really wanted to invite to the opening from way back when, but I can’t find him. I mean, sure, it’s been  _years_  and for all I know, he’s completely forgotten about me, but I said I’d do it and now I can’t. It’s like he dropped off the face of Georgia or something,” he complained. He probably sounded pathetic but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
   
“Perhaps he did. Has it occurred to you that he may have moved to another state? Have you considered using the newspaper or television? I believe the radio would also work quite effectively,” Spock suggested.  
   
Jim sat up and blinked. “What do you mean?”  
   
Although Spock’s voice remained even, he could hear the underlying eye roll in his friend’s words. “In your next interview or press conference, if you were to state that your play is a ‘shout out’ as you call it, I am quite certain that it will be published and broadcasted across the country. Then the possibility of this person receiving your message will grow exponentially higher.”  
   
He gaped. “Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Have I ever told you how much of a genius you are, Spock?—because you’re totally a genius.”  
   
“Yes, Jim. This is the 47th occasion in which you have called me a genius.”  
   
“Do you keep count just to rub it in my face at times like these?” he asked.  
   
“It is one of the few pleasures I derive from being your friend,” Spock told him in all seriousness.  
   
Jim couldn’t help but laugh. “And this is why I enjoy our heart-to-hearts so much.”  
   
\--  
   
On opening night, he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t dejected that that one reserved seat next to his friends remained empty. He’d been expecting it. The ticket was still sitting pretty on his countertop after all, but that little spark of hope stubbornly remained even as the curtains fell and the applause slowly faded into silence.  
   
Standing there amidst the bustling crew, he took a deep breath and pushed the disappointment to the back of his mind.  
   
The stage had never felt lonelier.  
   
\--  
   
The next night, after the show, he made his way onto the stage and sat alone in front of the curtains in the silence, trying not to miss that little playhouse in Georgia all those years ago. After ten minutes, he heaved a sigh and got up and left. Maybe Spock’s brilliant idea hadn’t worked after all.  
   
Despite his doubts, he repeated the same routine the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that….  
   
\--  
   
When the final performance finally ended, Jim excused himself, telling the rest of the crew to go on ahead of him to the after-party. When he was finally left alone, he made his way up to the stage to go through with his usual routine one last time. His eyes widened in disbelief when he made his way past the curtains and found a man in a fine looking suit sitting in the middle of the Mezzanine, waiting for him.  
   
Standing there with his heart pounding wildly in his ears, he grinned, barely able to contain his excitement. “Hey there, Bones. So how did I do?”  
   
Leonard’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You did real good, Romeo. You did real good.”


End file.
